


Mary's Hair

by under_a_grey_cloud



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hair, POV First Person, POV Mary's Hair, Sad, Season/Series 12, hair POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 05:38:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8610796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/under_a_grey_cloud/pseuds/under_a_grey_cloud
Summary: A sad little piece about what it feels like to be Mary Winchester's hair, returned from the dead.
This is a sad piece because I am sad. It is about sad hair.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading a lot of fics written from non-human POVs lately. They've been fascinating. From the POV of the Impala or Juliet the hell hound. They're really good. You should read them.
> 
> So I thought I'd give it a try but couldn't find a plot other than post-apocalyptic hair.
> 
> It's probably stupid but it's only 684 words so it's not a great waste of time to read.

I am again. How can that be? I was one of the first parts of Body to go. Dry. Stagnant. Bored. No breeze. Nothing touching me. I remember shrivelling away. After that, there was nothing. Long nothing. Forever nothing. But now not forever. I am again.

Now I feel things brushing me. Sticking into me. Quite annoying, actually, but worth it. Worth what? I’m confused. I’ve been nothing for so long. I forgot am. I am the same color. I am much longer. I am so brittle. Body hasn’t touched me for a long long time. Why doesn’t Body touch me? I suppose Body has better things to do. Body always had better things to do, even when I was smooth and curly and bouncy and free. I guess I’m not very important.

 I don’t know why I am. Other parts of Body can move by themselves. Why can’t I do that? Why am I part of Body? Ouch. I’m so tangled I keep getting pulled by thins and thicks. I miss being touched, played with, loved. Now I don’t think I’m noticed at all.

Ouch! That _really_ hurt. I guess second am is no different from first am. I still get pulled and caught and tangled up with not-hair. I wish Body would let go of big body with almost no hair at all. I’m so stuck I can barely move. 

Ahh. Better. I’m free now, even touched. I can feel wind as Body moves. It’s nice to feel wind. Thank you, wind.

 

~~~~~*~~~~~

 

Yuck! Something really gross and icky just tugged me. I hope Body cleans me soon. The gross and icky stays on me even when its body is gone. Oh great. Now Body is dripping on me. I remember this. When dripping dries, I’m stiff and bad. I think I liked it better in the box.

Why does this keep happening? Why does Body like cold and dark and so many gross ickies? I can feel my ends splitting off. I don’t like that. I’m losing parts of me and there’s nothing I can do about it. Oh well. There is so much I can’t do anything about. What can I do? Why am I even here? Seems I always get in Body’s way. I think Body hates me. I’m always tugging Body. Still, I like the feel of Body touch. Even angry touch.

 

~~~~~*~~~~~

 

Oh! I can see myself! And Body. I forgot about that. Ahh. Body is pulling me, twisting me, touching me. Then the long tangled part of me is gone. I feel free. I love all the brittle bad parts of me disappearing. Sometimes Body shakes her head and makes me fly. This is fun. I can see the bad parts of me falling down. I wonder where they go. I hope they don’t get hurt. I didn’t like them, but I don’t want them to get hurt. I feel so strange. I can’t feel the gone parts at all. But Body keeps touching me and making my bad parts fall off. I am happy. I forgot happy. I like happy.

Body is happy too. Body keeps fluffing me and making more tiny bad parts fall off and then fluffing me again. I wish happy would never go away. But it always does. It goes away and comes back again. Different happies. Warm happies, tickly happies, good happies. Then no happies.

Is it happy that I am again? I don’t know. Maybe. Sometimes. Body still mostly ignores me. I still get pulled but not so much. Mostly I am lonely. There are so many pieces of me. How can I be lonely? I guess all my pieces are lonely. We are all lonely together. Sometimes I wish I could go away from Body and back into that box. Sometimes I want to dry up and be nothing again.

I am again. Sometimes there’s hurt and sometimes there’s nothing and sometimes there’s happy. Just like it was before the box. I don’t know if am is good or bad. I guess am is just am.


End file.
